


every new beginning

by lovepeaceohana



Category: Big Day (VW Wedding Commercial), TV Commercials
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life, babies ever after, domestic fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:58:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovepeaceohana/pseuds/lovepeaceohana





	every new beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/gifts).



Born at 10:42 a.m.; nineteen and one-quarter inches; seven pounds and one ounce. Ten fingers, ten toes.

Not, of course, that John had had a chance to personally inspect them. Even with newborn all to himself for the moment, he could see little other than her tiny face and a tuft of dark hair that had escaped her cap. The rest of her was swaddled tightly in a blue blanket with bright yellow ducks – one of half a dozen Michael had bought in a fit of indecision as a shower gift. John hadn’t even seen her eyes, since she’d been handed to him asleep, but he was assured they were the deepest blue. And then reassured again that they’d likely change, since neither he nor Vanessa had blue eyes, but that all babies did. The nurses all seemed to think he needed to hear it. “She has your nose!”

Michael would probably scoff. “She looks like a baby! How can they even tell whose nose she has? It’s all squashed and red like the rest of her.”

John smiled fondly. Michael tended not to strike anyone as the type of person who liked children – and it didn’t help that Michael himself tended to think he was someone who didn’t like children. John knew better. If Michael didn’t like children, would he still be apologizing to the Bankses whenever he saw them, even though they assured him that their three-year-old twins just _loved_ the thirty-two-piece _Band In A Box!_ kit Michael bought them for their birthday? John didn’t think so.

The wedding had been Michael’s idea, too, and he’d only rolled his eyes when John had tried to protest.

“You’ll do it, and you’ll do it _right_ ,” he’d said, and then proceeded to mainline all of David Tutera’s wedding shows. He’d set up their account on theknot.com and, in a surprising show of dedicated organization, proceeded to purchase and obsess over a yearlong wedding planning and budget tool.

With a month to go and Michael becoming increasingly frayed around the edges as he fielded calls from florists and photographers and agonized over the seating chart, John had made the mistake of joking that Michael was becoming quite the bridezilla for a wedding that wasn’t even his. He’d slept on the sofa for a week, and Vanessa had howled herself silly over the whole thing. She’d had no pretentions about the wedding, naturally, and was quite happy to let Michael wear himself out fussing over all the nitty gritty details like linens and the font on the invitations.

And then Michael had been late, of course, and shown up looking a mess at the most scandalous moment in the history of weddings, ever – and John could not have possibly been gladder to have seen him. Even with his suit askew and his hair rain-mussed, Michael looked nothing short of kissable, and John had breathed a sigh of relief as they went into the _I do_ ’s. It seemed less wrong, somehow, to marry Vanessa with his partner there to give his blessing.

The baby stirred in his arms, the tiniest shift and exhalation of breath, and John rocked her a bit as he’d seen Vanessa do, shushing her quietly as he cradled her. He turned to find Michael standing in the doorway, lounging against the jamb, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. He’d learned the value of a subtle entry at the wedding, it seemed.

“I came as fast as I could,” Michael said by way of explanation.

John smiled. “I know. I’m glad you’re here.”

Michael came into the room then, and instead of moving straight to kiss John’s cheek he went to the only chair in the room and cleared it of all the things (a bag of used laundry, some diapers, a container of wipes – it really was amazing how quickly babies seemed to attract _stuff_ ) it had acquired. He directed John into it, baby and all. “No buts – if you keep standing you’re liable to ask me to hold her.”

“Not on your life,” John said, and meant it. He’d hold his daughter as long as he could, knowing that before too long she’d wake and be all Vanessa’s again, and it would be too soon. He sat anyway, and watched as Michael poked at the plastic tub that apparently served as a crib – not that it’d been used as such, yet. John still wasn’t sure he trusted it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just looking at the baby sleeping in John’s arms. He wondered whether Michael wanted to hold her – he’d brought it up, after all, and that was such a Michael thing to do – but knew better than to ask. He’d feel more comfortable once they were home again, in their own rooms, and then maybe he’d be willing to try.

“How’d Vanessa do?” Michael asked. He glanced over at her sleeping form on the bed.

“Great,” John said. “A long labor, but the nurses say that’s normal for her first. We walked a lot.” He laughed. “She did better than me once things really got going, anyway – kept telling me to quit pacing, because it was making her tired.”

Michael grinned. “I told you reading all those books would put you in a state.”

A nurse bustled in and made shooing motions at Michael so that she could check the baby’s temperature and heartbeat. The little one shifted and furrowed her brow as the instruments touched her skin, her mouth making an unhappy frown, and the nurse murmured soothingly while John breathed, in through the nose, out through the mouth. He’d read in one of those books that babies were soothed by the sound of a steady heartbeat. He was determined to be soothing, and determined to prove that the books had been good for something other than knowing more than he ever wanted to about all the things that could go wrong in a normal pregnancy. 

The nurse checked on Vanessa, too, made some notes on her clipchart, and then hustled out again. The room went quiet, marked by the marching seconds and the soft sounds of breathing.

“You’re already doing it,” Michael said, softly. “Looking at her again.”

John looked up at Michael. He carefully cradled the infant in one hand and extended the other to his partner. “It will be all right, Michael,” he said. “I’m ready for this. _You’re_ ready for this.”

Michael shook his head and put up his hands. ”Oh no, this is _your_ adventure. I’m just along for the ride.”

“So glad to have your support,” John said, and rolled his eyes because it was the most expressive he could be with seven pounds of baby in his arms.

“Naturally.”


End file.
